Dead Mass
by Reservoir
Summary: My take on the ME universe...if said universe gobbled up the DS universe, incorporating elements of the latter into it's own structure. Expect Markers, Reapers, Protheans, and Necromorphs, oh my! There will be a slow start, with the DS elements being present but subtle, but it'll pick up pace once the story sets into motion. Also, there'll be no shipping until well into the story.
1. Prologue: Well, Shit

Captain David Anderson shifted his weight, the wooden chair creaking in tune with his discomfort. All three men were tired, having spent the better part of a day sifting through the candidate files EarthGov had passed along to them. Across from him sat the human Ambassador to the Citadel and the Council, Donnel Udina. Off to their right was one of the biggest names in the Alliance military, Admiral Steven Hackett. Hackett had stood the entire time, though it was clear even he was beginning to get irritated.

Udina's thick accent broke the uneasy silence as he stared at the holographic projection displayed just above his end of the table, right in front of his face. "Well, what about...Commander Shepard?" He absentmindedly reached out and flicked one of the display's information windows, which switched places with another one. "She's twenty-nine, has lived aboard Alliance starships most of her life, and scored well enough in the aptitude tests to qualify for the Special Forces programs, and even achieved the N7 designation a few years ago."

Hackett glanced at his own allocated display, already viewing her information. He squinted, and then the scars on his face deepened as he frowned. "The Commander was with the unit that landed on Akuze after the colony went dark. She watched as her whole unit got wiped out by a Thresher Maw, and then spent nearly two standard weeks surviving alone," he said in his deep, gravelly voice. "That changes a soldier, and not often for the better."

Anderson chimed in himself, his baritone voice contrasting against the other two in the room. "That was six years ago, Admiral. Shepard's been cleared by two medical teams and whole psychiatric group since then. She's a survivor, through and through, and her N7 achievement proves that."

Udina glanced across the table, eyeing Anderson with unveiled suspicion. "Is she the kind of soldier we want out protecting the galaxy? We are looking for someone to represent the _best_ of the Alliance, after all," he said in a dismissive tone.

Anderson gave him a withering look in return. "Ambassador, that's exactly the kind of person who _can_ protect the galaxy. If we're considering her for candidacy, then she's got my vote." He glanced sideways, towards Hackett; the older man rubbed his chin in thought for a moment, then nodded as he quickly met both Anderson's and Udina's eyes. Satisfied with the choice, the Admiral turned and left the room with only another curt nod.

Udina frowned slightly, but caved in. "Very well, I'll make the call..."

* * *

Around twelve hours later, one Commander M. Erin Shepard found herself on her second shuttle en-route to her new posting. At first glance she was a typical Alliance soldier, with a curvy and robust 5' 6" body that was due more to demanding training and military standards than genetics. Her pale blonde hair was shaved at the sides to almost a half-inch, but the top and back of her head had long enough hair to slick back down to her nape.

She shifted her weight, her icy blue eyes darting around as she fought to awaken her sleeping buttocks. The first shuttle ride had only been three hours long, which had then been followed by a two-hour layover. During the wait she'd watched shuttles large and small flutter about the Alliance Way Station, and felt a bit of dismay cross her; the only known Mass Relay in the 'Inner Sphere' of Alliance space was back in the Sol system, and it was clear that the initial trek from Earth had put her well out of the system itself. She spent the remainder of the time wonder what Captain or Admiral she'd pissed off somehow to end up in a backwater post, out in the fringes of human-only territory.

Eventually, though, a small Alliance APS de-shocked into docking range of the station, and the holographic HUD integrated into her ACU notified her that it was her arriving outbound flight. With some slight sourness, she followed the hallways towards the landing bays, and within a few minutes had deposited her two bags into the shuttle's cargo trays built into the floor.

She'd sat down for only a few moments when the pilot, still dressed in his astro-aviation suit, stepped through the sliding hatch separating the crew compartment from the passenger compartment, known more by the Alliance marines slang as the 'grunt can'. He nodded to her, sliding his visor up so that his hazel eyes could meet her own.

"You settled in, ma'am?" he inquired politely.

She blinked a few times, and then responded. "Affirmative, Lieutenant, just need to connect my harness and I'll be set."

He nodded, turning back towards the hatch. "Understood, ma'am, just let me know when you're ready and I'll begin preps for departure."

Shepard leaned forward, reaching out a hand as if to physically stop him; he caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and turned back towards her. "Lieutenant," she said in confusion, "aren't we going to wait on the rest of the passengers?"

The pilot shrugged, raising an eyebrow. "You're the only grunt in the can, ma'am; Admiral's orders."

 _'Well, shit'_ , Shepard thought to herself as she slowly and absentmindedly buckled her safety harness. "Alright," she said after a moment, "ready whenever you are, Lieutenant."

He nodded once, and then proceeded back into the crew compartment as he flicked the visor back down over his eyes. As he slid the hatch closed, the shuttles bay door automatically responded in kind, creating a sealed environment for Shepard to breathe as it spent the next minute being taxied to a launch bay, and then another four undergoing preparation checks on the equipment.

A minute later the shuttle rocketed out of the station's massive hanger bay, a single musical note in a symphony of about thirty other shuttle launches. The impromptu group split almost as immediately as it formed, with each shuttle making course corrections as their ShockPoint Drives prepared to stream negatively-charged ions into their element zero cores. Several shuttles banded together into pairs or more as they moved farther away from the station, sharing a common destination; Shepard's dismay was only compounded when her HUD informed her that her shuttle would be traveling alone.

She sighed as the hum behind her escalated in volume. It was then she racked her brain, having absolutely no idea where the hell she was going, figuring it was likely going to be one shit job. The shuttle's intercom channel opened, interrupting her thoughts as the pilot rattled off a countdown; _"Engaging ShockPoint in 4...3...2...1..."_ Shepard's shuttle had leaped in solitude to FTL speeds with a flashing streak of bright blue light at that point, and for the next few hours she'd sat there, half-asleep as she continued wondering about her current predicament.

This had led her to her current sleeping-buttocks predicament, and she shifted uncomfortably again. Absentmindedly she wondered how much longer the trip was going to be; the shuttle's engines were situated behind the passenger compartment for obvious reasons, and the heat radiating from them had been encroaching in her personal space for the last hour.

As the feeling of prickling pins and needles began to subside, Shepard heard the latches for the crew door unlock again, and moments later the shuttle's co-pilot stepped through and made his way over to her, taking off his helmet in the process. He was a slimmer and shorter man than the pilot, with a skin like coffee and even darker hair. She nodded, and he sat down on the bench in front of her, not bothering to buckle in.

"Sorry you've been kept in the dark, ma'am," the man spoke in a softer voice than she'd suspected of him. "We're nearly to our destination, and I figured it'd be safe enough to tell you what I know. Sadly, that isn't much, ma'am."

She glanced at his silver rank pip. "Understood, Junior Lieutenant," she said as she sighed, shifting in her seat again. "So, tell me the bad news."

He chuckled. "Just call me Cortez, ma'am." After a moment of silence, he leaned forward. "I know this looks like you're getting posted to the ass-end of nowhere. Unfortunately, I can't tell you what you're doing, but I can tell you three things: first, the base out here in the boonies is definitely bigger than some backwater post," he chuckled again, quietly. "Hell, I'm not sure if we're even _in_ the boonies anymore; for all I know we're closer to Earth than the Way Station." He shrugged despite what he said. "Wherever we're going, it has a hanger bay that puts the Way Stations to shame."

She cocked an eyebrow, though that alone didn't rouse much suspicion. "Maybe it just services a larger area than most?"

Cortez shook his head. "That's the second part; we're a fair distance into Alliance Inner Sphere territory, but we're at coordinates I've never heard of before. There's no good reason to have that kinda station out here, when the Way Station we was just at covers this area perfectly..."

"...unless it's for black-ops?" She replied, finishing his sentence.

He nodded. "Possibly; I mean, that would give the third point some credibility."

She crossed her arms. "Okay, what's you're third point?"

Cortez smirked, leaning back. "I heard that you were specifically requested by two big – _big_ people in the Alliance; not that I would be privy to who that would be, of course." He let the silence punctuate the fact before speaking again. "And you know people like that don't get sent to do-nothing sectors of space, and they don't go on do-nothing missions."

Shepard blinked a few times. "Well, shit." was the only thing she could think to say. "What have I been called into?" she said quietly.

"Not sure, ma'am," he replied, "but I'd get ready for a wild ride." A moment later, there was a subtle shutter throughout the shuttle, causing Cortez to glance around. "We've de-shocked," he said aloud before looking at Shepard again. "Anyway, I figured you needed to know...gotta get ready for whatever they're going to throw at you, right?"

Shepard smiled at him. "Thanks, Cortez."

He returned the smile. "No problem, ma'am." He stood, taking his helmet with him. "I gotta get back in the chair. We shouldn't be but a few more minutes before docking." He nodded to her, and then returned the way he came.

She brought her left arm up, now eager to see the station for herself to see whether or not Junior Lieutenant Cortez' had been right about the first point. The omni-tool implant in her forearm, through her HUD, came to life around her forearm and hand, giving her a wide range of interactive functions within the shuttle. She tapped a few holographic keys, and a live feed of the shuttle's forward navigational camera sprang to life in front of her face.

Several dozen kilometers ahead of the shuttle, a large structure hung in the silence of space; nearly five kilometers long, with a three and a half kilometer diameter, the station was like a barrel lying sideways, with various maneuvering thrusters jutting out of both ends. In the center sections of the end closest to Shepard's shuttle was a massive grid of dozens of bays, varying in sizes that could accommodate anything from shuttles to frigates.

She closed the feed, and dismay was replaced by a near feeling of anxiety as the shuttle quickly reached an available docking bay. Two of Cortez' points had checked out, at least as far as she could tell, and the prospect of working under such distinguished members of the Alliance put butterflies in her stomach. She was still no closer to understanding what was going on, but she knew now that it had to be something much bigger than she'd expected.

The shuttle drifted into a docking bay, then groaned as it landed, shifting its weight into its landing gear. Shepard stood as the shuttles sliding door automatically pushed itself open, and she retrieved her two bags from the underfloor compartments as quickly as possible. She stepped out into a well-lit docking bay, where several Alliance personnel moved about with purpose. The hanger had dozens of spots to park shuttles, with most of them occupied, and the hanger itself seemed to be two-tiered in structure.

As the shuttle's pilot and Cortez stepped out and passed her, she glanced to her right as her peripheral vision caught movement. The man coming towards her was dressed in a well-decorated Alliance dress uniform, which was royal blue with bright, gold trimmings; he was dark-skinned, and his face was lined with hard wrinkles indicative of someone who'd served the Alliance well.

He stopped just short of her, and immediately stood at parade rest. A silent moment passed between them; it was in that moment she noted the four gold bars on his shoulders, and it was _then_ she understood that she was likely staring at none other than the legendary Captain Anderson himself.

' _Well, shit,'_ she thought to herself as she dropper her bags and quickly saluted who she now assumed to be her new commanding officer.


	2. Chapter 1: Confusions and Revelations

Captain Anderson looked over the saluting Commander Shepard, a bit bemused. Despite that, he immediately saluted, giving Shepard a slight nod as the two relaxed.

"I apologize, Captain," Shepard said as she retrieved the bags from beside her feet. "I've heard a great deal about you, sir; honestly wasn't expecting you to greet me as soon as I got here."

Anderson grunted, before motioning for Shepard to follow him towards a nearby hallway. "No need for apologize; I understand that my actions speak for me before I even enter a room. It's something I've become accustomed to, unfortunately."

Shepard chuckled quietly. "It's not every day that you get to meet one of the founding members of the most prestigious Special Forces program in all of Alliance space, sir."

Anderson, not missing a single, fast step of his long stride, cast a sideways glance in her direction. "A program you yourself belong to, Commander." He glanced up, nodding at a passing member of the stations crew. "Then again, we were selecting from among the best of the best, so I guess the N7 designation was a prerequisite."

"Selecting for what, sir?" Shepard asked with an arched eyebrow as she did her best to keep up with the speed-walking Captain. "I wasn't exactly briefed on any of this, sir."

Anderson grunted again, this time with the slight tick of a frown. "That sounds about right." He made a sharp left, bringing the two of them into another large room that acted as a major intersection within the station. "I'll explain everything once we're aboard, Commander – we don't have a lot of time before the _Normandy_ leaves dock."

"Yes, sir," Shepard acknowledged, and the two fell into a silent march. It was clear now they were heading towards a section of larger hangers; given that Alliance frigates were named after famous Earth battles, Shepard concluded that the _Normandy_ had to be a frigate of some sort. She still couldn't understand why Anderson would be commanding a frigate, or why such a ship would be posted deep in human territory.

 _'Not to mention why I'd be hand-picked to serve on a frigate,'_ she nearly thought aloud.

It only took a couple more minutes before they reached the sliding doors of a short hallway, which lead into another hanger bay. Flanking both sides of the doors were armed guards, wearing a 'medium' set of Alliance-standard powered battle armor and wielding M7A2 assault rifles. They saluted the Captain, who'd yet to slow down; he simply looked the two over as he approached, acknowledged them with "Gentlemen," and stepped through the opening doors without hesitation. Shepard followed quickly behind, the guards casting slightly suspicious glances her way.

They arrived at the top floor of the docking area, where crew members used sectional docking arms to reach their ship. Here, the normally-clear synthetic plating that would give said crew a view of the docked ships wasn't present, replaced instead with more metal panels. Anderson slowed, and motioned to a nearby man checking bags on a large cart. "Leave your effects with the crewman here, and meet me in Arm 1." With that, he marched onward, leaving Shepard to spend the next minute checking in her two bags to be placed aboard the _Normandy_.

She made her way down the docking arm, and nodded to Anderson as she neared its end; just beyond its tip was obviously the beginning of the airlock for the _Normandy_ herself, as the arm seemed to end by snugly nestling into the recess of the airlock. Anderson stepped through just ahead of Shepard, and the two waited as the dull, automated voice of the ships VI calmly let them know they were in the decontamination process. After a few moments passed, the circular orange hologram hovering over the center of the airlock spun a full revolution and turned green, and the airlock opened as the VI logged Captain Anderson's arrival aboard the ship.

The interior of the ship was clean and clearly lit; clear white lighting bounced off of gunmetal gray and black plating, while the slight hum of holographic displays and other machinery permeated the air. Anderson stepped forward and leaned to his right, looking at whoever was inside. "Mr. Moreau, what's our ETD?"

As Shepard stepped properly into the _Normandy_ behind him, a light male voice spoke up. "Two minutes, Captain."

Anderson nodded, then turned to his right and marched off, leaving Shepard to seemingly fend for herself. She looked to her left and was puzzled by what appeared to be a piloting station flanked by two navigational stations; the only one chaired was the pilots, and he swiped and poked at the screens with a careful precision. Shepard realized then that her optic implants hadn't received the updated security clearances yet, so the screens hovering over the stations seemed to display simple splotches of orange.

Shepard shook her head as she wondered who'd designed this frigate; all Alliance vessels had the CIC stations within walking distance of each other in order to facilitate quick communications, and this was quite the departure from that doctrine. She turn around and found herself questioning the design choices even more; just beyond her current position in front of the airlock, eight seated stations flanked both sides of a paneled walkway leading into the 'proper' CIC area.

The walkway curved into a wider and wider path until it spit in two at the main section of consoles, which formed a chevron-shape in front of a raised platform from behind. A large holographic display was seated in the middle of the chevron, meaning that the platform stood well enough above it to observe anything it showed. Meanwhile, the paths led to two automatic doors, each guarded by Alliance soldiers dressed similarly to those she'd seen earlier. It also appeared as if there was an alcove beyond the wall behind the CIC stations, though she obviously couldn't tell what lay beyond it.

Shepard hadn't been able to see the exterior of the _Normandy_ while her and Anderson had made their way to her, so the holographic display in the middle of the CIC caught her attention: there, in its passive mode, it displayed the ship as it looked to outsiders, complete with various bits of information floating around her.

The ship itself, according to the hologram, was sleek in design; the main section was lean, with the cockpit towards the very front of the vessel. The only notable thing that graced her otherwise sleek dorsal side was a small, nondescript tower that stuck out towards the back. _Normandy's_ ventral section was rather large, possibly because of the cargo bay and enlarged Engineering section. Her two main engines were nearly as long as her, and were situated on a pylon that stuck out just barely to the aft and port of the ship. Two secondary engines jutted out via their own independent, mechanized arms, which currently placed the secondary engines under and behind the mains.

Shepard quietly mused to herself that the ship was currently in a docking state, though she had no real idea how the secondary engine arms were situated during actual flight. As she pondered the other details of the ship, she was oblivious to the pilots shift in attention towards her. "Hell of a ship, Commander," the voice from earlier said from behind her. She turned around again, and saw him looking over his shoulder towards her, his char turned slightly to the right. "Good to know the Captain only picks the best for her crew."

She eyed the redheaded pilot, not sure of the scruff on his face was from the lack of shaving, or just her imagination. "Thanks, Flight Lieutenant. I'd agree that she's a hell of a ship..." She glanced back towards the CIC. "...if she didn't seem like a hell of a confusing one."

"Pfft, she'll grow on you once you give her the chance," he said dismissively before adding, "which we'll get to in about a minute, ma'am." He turned his attentions, and his chair, back to his station. "We're not exactly public with the _Normandy_ yet, so we've got to launch during a small window of opportunity, so if you'll excuse me, you might want to prep yourself."

Shepard thought for a moment, and then nodded. "Very well, Mr. Moreau," she said simply, and then made her way towards the main CIC stations. As the ships VI calmly sounded the one-minute launch warning, several crew members filed out from either of the automatic doors and took their stations; three joined her at the CIC stations, five took seats at the stations lining the ship's 'neck' that flanked the walkway. She moved herself to the back of the CIC, keeping herself quite out of the way of the actual working crew.

"Chief Navigator to Engineering, how are we looking down there?" a short man with a gray, balding head said from his standing CIC station. Shepard saw on his uniform that his name was "Pressly".

 _"This is Chief Engineer Adams here; all systems green down here. ShockPoint Drive is prepping for engagement now."_

"Understood, Engineering," Navigator Pressly acknowledged. He tapped his display a few more times, and then turned slightly towards the ships fore. "Navigation to Helm, do you copy all systems green?"

 _"Copy all systems green, Navigation. Fifteen seconds until launch window opens,"_ Lieutenant Moreau replied.

The Chief Navigator simply nodded as he left his station, and made his way around to the raised platform above the CIC stations. The holo-projector switched to another display, initially showing the entire known galaxy. However, within moments it had quickly zoomed in, first on a particular arm, then a particular section of that arm; eventually, it ended up with a selection of systems from their current system, all the way to the Sol system. A straight, green line connected the two, an obvious indication of a laid-in course.

Shepard let her mind wander for a moment as the pilot and the navigator rattled of, and confirmed, a dozen numbers that meant more to them than she could even guess. She scratched her head thoughtlessly, still feeling rather out of place, but was interrupted by the Jokers countdown to launch. As he began from ten, she noticed Captain Anderson out of the corner of her eye; he'd apparently been in the lower decks, as she heard the automatic door shut behind him as he returned to the CIC.

 _"Bay doors open in four...three...two...one..."_ Lieutenant Moreau's voice fell quite as the bay doors began to slide open, and the _Normandy_ gracefully slid from her confines towards the opening of space and beyond.

 _"We are clear of bay doors, Navigation; setting course now._ "

"Understood, Helm," Pressly intoned as he glanced down, reading the instruments from his position. "Engineering, what's our ShockPoint Drive status?"

" _Eezo core ready for shock stream, Navigation,"_ an ensign in Engineering replied.

 _"Helm to Navigation, stealth FTL window closing in ten seconds; engaging ShockPoint in four...three...two...one..."_

Another small silence fell as the ship seemed to lurch slightly, and Shepard noticed that everyone held their breath for a moment before their successful launch sunk in. However, just as the tension had come, it had passed, and a few slight smiles danced across the faces the CIC crew.

"Impressive launch, everyone," Captain Anderson said in a loud voice, clearly happy things went as smoothly as possible.

Navigator Pressly looked up from his position and beamed solemn respect towards the Captain. "Indeed, sir. Our ETA to the Charon Relay is about and hour; ShockPoint charge reports indicated we'll only be around 8% maximum safe charge by that point."

The Captain nodded, impressed. "Good, good. I suppose the Turians know how to build something decent, when given the proper materials and schematics." He chuckled, obviously joking.

Shepard was curious as to how they were going to reach the Earth system so quickly, but Pressly, however, interrupted her thoughts; he didn't seem to be included in on Andersons joke, intentionally or otherwise. "Sorry, sir, but I have to disagree..."

Anderson gave a small sigh, preparing to go into a small lecture; unfortunately for him and Pressly both, another voice intervened. "Considering how long it took humanity to reach out towards the stars, and how quickly your colony on Shanxi was occupied by the Hierarchy," the voice said with a noise not unlike a reptilian growl underlying every word, "I believe your Navigator is under-appreciating the Turian military force."

All three turned to look at the source of the voice, with Anderson and Pressly in mild and acute irritation, respectively, while Shepard was in complete surprise. To their right stood a bony figure, with an appearance that Pressly would've considered "and ugly baby of a dinosaur and a bird". He was wearing a black suit of Powered armor that was no doubt provided by the Citadel Council, which was accented by red lighting and stripes. Though his leather skin was gray, his face was painted a hard, cold black, with simple, yet elegant white stripes decorating the numerous chunks of facial plating on his face.

What stuck out the most, for Shepard anyway, were the eyes: the Turian who stood there, intentionally oblivious to the leering his presence on the CIC was producing, had eyes as green as a meadow. Beyond the color, however, the Turians eyes were anything but as soft as the meadow.

"Still," he said, "events like the Battle of Shanxi are things I try to prevent, not produce." After another brief moment, he glanced over towards the Commander and seemingly snapped himself out of the confrontational situation. "Ah, good to finally meet you, Commander Shepard," he said simply as he walked over towards her. After an uncomfortable moment, he stuck his hand out in an attempt to receive a proper, human handshake.

Shepard took it, though with some caution. "I'm sorry; I wasn't expecting to see a Turian on board an Alliance frigate." She let her hand drop from his as she realized he was only a slight bit taller than her. "Who're you?"

The Turians jaw plating twitched outward for just a moment, a sign of slight irritation that most would miss. "I forget how much the Alliance in general prefers to keep its best and brightest as...ignorant of their situation as possible." He cast a sideways glance towards Anderson, who only responded with a stiff look of his own. "I am Nihlus Kryik, Commander Shepard, and as a Spectre, I'm here to represent the interests of both the Turian Hierarchy and the Citadel Council."

It was in that moment that Commander Shepard _knew_ there was more to the situation than she could've ever guessed.


	3. Chapter 2: All The Boring Stuff

A few minutes after Nihlus' arrival, Shepard found herself leaning against the wall of the conference room, which was nestled into the alcove behind the CIC. Across from her, Nihlus stood at parade rest behind one of the many seats in the room; he hadn't moved at all from that spot, and his gaze had yet to stray from her face. The two were waiting for the Captain; he'd glared at both Nihlus and Navigator Pressly before 'politely' asking for the two to go on ahead of him.

She cleared her throat, daring to initiate a conversation. "So, Spectre-"

"Nihlus," he corrected.

"-Nihlus, you said that the Alliance tends to keep its people...'in the dark'." She took her weight off of the wall, and crossed her arms. "Care to elaborate?"

The Turian's eyes shifted subtly, likely reading her body language; she had no doubt he'd been extensively trained in understanding the body language of multiple species. He sighed, speaking only after a few moments of thought. "I would think it quite clear, Commander: you're on an advanced, prototype starship designed by both Turians and Humans, with a Turian Spectre present on board, and yet you have no idea as to why _you_ are here."

Shepard shrugged. "I imagine that the Alliance brass didn't want to transmit sensitive information through unsecured channels just for my comfort."

Nihlus shook his head. "I agree with that assessment, Commander; however, between the time you arrived on the station and the time you came aboard, you should've been up-to-speed on the mission and its participants."

She nodded gently. "And yet, here I am."

He tilted his head sideways in a gesture of acknowledgment. "And so you are." He brought up his omni-tool, and a hologram of Alliance space was generated inside the circle of chairs that divided the floor between them. The hologram shifted away from the multiple planet-states of the Terran Inner Sphere, instead focusing on the Alliance-sponsored colonies placed beyond the Charon Relay. It then focused further; first the systems comprising the Exodus cluster, then the Utopia system within, and finally the sole human colony in the system, Eden Prime.

Nihlus observed Shepard reviewing the information surrounding the holographic orb for a few moments. "What do you think, Commander, of the Alliance's crowning jewel of colonization?"

She just shook her head in response. "I've never been there before, so I can't say I have an opinion."

He grunted. "Of course you have an opinion, Shepard. Regardless of whether or not you've ever set foot on the world, Eden Prime represents something great for your people, doesn't it? Proof that humanity can overcome the greedy and inherit shortcomings that have rendered several 'Inner Sphere' worlds as industrial skeletons, perhaps?" He crossed his arms, and then continued. "Or, instead, is it proof that not only can humanity create sustainable, beautiful colonies in the larger galactic community, but also protect them from within and without?"

Shepard's brow furrowed, and she glared at Nihlus through the hologram. He either refused to notice her look, or genuinely didn't. "Is there something I should know, _Nihlus_?" she said as she leaned just slightly in his direction.

He waved the hologram of Eden Prime away, his body language unchanged by her implications. "I'm merely questioning, Shepard, just as many races question humanity; they wonder if you'll outgrow your parasitic ways before you settle into the galaxy proper, for example." He sighed, leaning back almost casually. "Your people's use of 'planet-cracker' starships makes other species nervous, Shepard. The Council may not be able to dictate how you operate in your local corners of space, but should you decide to unleash them into galactic space..."

Shepard snorted, aware Nihlus was fishing for a reaction. "From what I understand, they're going to start decommissioning those things in just over a year." She leaned up against the chair in front of her. "And if the CEC and EarthGov don't, what's the Council going to do? Are they going to send in fleets and armies to force the issue?"

It was Nihlus' turn to grunt. "Perhaps they will; or, perhaps the Baterians will move in to the Attican Traverse in the hopes of both pushing humanity out, and of capturing a planet-cracker to study. Those four-eyed bastards would just love to have their own." He finally decided to return her glare. "And then there are the Quarians..."

Shepard inhaled, but the argument was cut short as the doorway slid open; Captain Anderson marched quickly into the room, the door closing behind him as he stopped just short of the chairs. "My apologies, Commander." he said as he eyed Nihlus with suspicion. "I hope our guest here has informed you of our mission?"

She shook her head. "No, sir," she replied crisply.

He glared at the Turian. "Funny, then, how you complained about that earlier." He let the words stew for a moment, and then continued. "Would you care to, or should I?"

Nihlus only chuckled. "No, go ahead," he said simply. "I'm sure she's already guessed we're on no simple 'shakedown run' of some sort." Shepard chuckled at that, nodding at the obvious.

Anderson glared for another moment, and then turned towards Shepard. "Have you ever heard of an Alliance colony called 'Eden Prime', Commander?"

She shrugged. "Nihlus here brought up a hologram of it, though I didn't get much about it."

Anderson nodded. "It's one of our best colonies out there. It's our most eco-friendly, and the most productive. Honestly, it's our most popular destination for new colonists, and there are plenty of retired Alliance personnel who live there even now." He waved his arm, bringing back the Eden Prime hologram with his own omni-tool as he did so. "It's also one of the latest planets to have discovered Prothean ruins buried just under the surface."

Shepard nodded patiently as the hologram marked a section of the surface where a small city had been constructed, and then marked another section nearby, indicating the location of Prothean ruins.

"Two days ago," Anderson continued, "a research team there stumbled upon a big find, something that most galactic species have never discovered in their own turf; they discovered a Prothean Beacon."

Despite the apparent awe in Anderson's voice, Shepard had only passing knowledge of the Protheans, and didn't know exactly what was being talked about. "What do these Prothean Beacons do exactly, sir?" she inquired.

Nihlus sighed quietly. "They were the hubs of Prothean colonies; they were slaved to the Mass Relays, transmitting information directly through the network, allowing unparalleled levels of communication within their society." He tapped his own omni-tool after a brief moment. "There's even speculation that Beacons were able to generate low levels usable energy, but that theory's been inconclusive so far."

Anderson nodded. "In any case, finding one is a big deal, even if it's inoperative." He chuckled lightly. "Of course, the one we found is not only intact, but still somehow active."

"And still containing information, if I recall correctly," Nihlus chimed.

Anderson glanced over towards the Turian, still slightly agitated. "The report said it was likely, though our analysts haven't been able to scratch the layers of encryption."

"Which is why this situation goes beyond human concerns, Captain," Nihlus replied as he stepped in between some seats, getting closer to Shepard and Anderson. "The Citadel Council's member races have plenty of scientists who're far more capable than Alliance personnel." He cast his eyes on Shepard. "Also, there are plenty of Terminus System powers who'd love to have this Beacon as well; they'll risk war with humanity, and even the Council races, to get it."

Anderson's expression didn't change as he returned his attention to Shepard. "Unfortunately, Nihlus here is right, and the Alliance brass was inclined to agree with him."

Shepard waited for a moment before speaking. "So, then; we land on Eden Prime, secure the Beacon, and transport it...?"

"...to the Citadel, where it'll likely be transported to a 'secure facility' elsewhere," Anderson finished. "Far away from human eyes, I'll wager."

Nihlus chuckled, this time a little louder than before. "Despite humanity's insistence on being more valuable than its current station implies, I must remind you that there isn't a single human being with anywhere near the experience or knowledge necessary to study a Prothean Beacon." He narrowed his eyes as he traded glances with Shepard and Anderson. "So yes, it will be taken to the Citadel, it will then be taken elsewhere, and I cannot be any more forthcoming than that."

A quiet silence, filled only with the sounds of the ship around them, hung tensely in the air for a few moments. Anderson was the first to speak. "There is one other matter, Shepard..."

Nihlus chuckled. "No need to dance around the issue, Captain." He turned his focus on Shepard again. "While I'm here to represent the Citadel Council and its interests, the Beacon is not the only thing the Council has an interest in."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What else does the illustrious Council want?"

He chose to ignore the light air of whimsy she'd displayed with her comment. "I'm here to observe how you handle yourself out there, Commander. This simple mission will be one of many we'll share together."

Shepard passed a worried glance over at Anderson. "Sir?" she said quizzically.

Anderson nodded. "Nihlus is here to appraise you, Commander, as to whether you have what it takes to become a Spectre."

It was her turn to trade glanced with the two. "Spectres," she said, rolling the though around in her head. "They're **the** Special Tactics and Reconnaissance agency, who're the elite agents of the Citadel Council?"

Nihlus nodded. "That is correct, Shepard. I've read through many of your files; your training, your service history, and your experience on Akuze. Lesser soldiers would've broken under such circumstances...but lesser soldiers would never be considered for candidacy." He shrugged his shoulders at the thought. "We don't care who, or what, you are; we only care that you can get the job done. And I believe you might have what it takes."

"'You' believe?" Shepard said with a frown.

"He personally sponsored you, despite several others voicing very strong opinions against it," Anderson chimed. "Admiral Hackett, Ambassador Udina, and I personally helped the Alliance choose you, but without Spectre sponsorship, any choice of ours would've been dead in the water."

Nihlus shook his head. "I doubt my vote was that decisive for the Council, but I can't deny that it helps." He cast a sideways glance at Anderson. "Any vote from a Spectre helps…especially when it's a human involved." He shifted his weight, and then sighed. "I apologize for my...'mixed signals'. Humanity has a large, negative stigma applied to it among the intergalactic community, and it's...difficult to break that train of thought, even for a Spectre." He returned his eyes to Shepard. "It's a stigma I hope you prove false."

Shepard shrugged, and then nodded. "I certainly hope so." She sighed, motioning to hologram. "Now that we've got all this crap out of the way, can we get on with the mission briefing?"

The Captain and the Spectre nodded, and the next several minutes we filled with predictable, if not dry planning; the Normandy, operating with her stealth systems engaged, would approach Eden Prime, signal the First Response defense satellites, land outside of the city, and then proceed to load the Prothean Beacon aboard. Then all that was required was to safely cart the Beacon to the Citadel, wherein the Spectres would assume control of the operation.

"Mr. Moreau," Anderson shouted to the intercom, after all that exhausting planning was done, "what's our ETA at the Charon Relay?"

 _"Eleven minutes by twelve, Captain,"_ Joker replied swiftly, indicating that they were eleven minutes and twelve seconds out.

"Understood," the Captain replied. He glanced between Nihlus and Shepard before quickly nodding. "Is there anything else to add to this briefing?"

Shepard shook her head, a motion that was quickly mirrored by Nihlus a moment later.

"Very well; Commander, you're dismissed," Anderson finished, adding "if you'd like, I'd suggest talking to the crew while we're still on route; you'll be posted on the _Normandy_ for a decent amount of time, I'm sure."

"I would suggest," Nihlus added, "speaking to Lieutenant Alenko and Corporal Jenkins; they'll be the members of your ground team."

Shepard raised an eyebrow at his statement. "You won't be joining us on the ground?" She expected that, since he was here to 'evaluate' her, he'd be riding shotgun on whatever ground team she'd be a part of.

Nihlus chuckled, shaking his head. "There won't be much reason for me to be present planet-side, Commander," he said simply. "I'll glean your command style from this mission, and your skills on the next ones."

Shepard nodded, and then turned towards the Captain. She saluted him, only leaving the conference room after he'd saluted back.


End file.
